


The Square Root of Two

by intensescreaming



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AU, Bucky Barnes: Muscles and Man Buns, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2018, F/M, Inspired by Art, M/M, Natasha and Bucky as BFFs they do each other's hair, Natasha and her 'excellent' driving, Nerds in Love, Pick-Up Lines, Trigger Warning in the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 15:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14897607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intensescreaming/pseuds/intensescreaming
Summary: “The new forensic scientist is really cute.”- Steve Rogers, in explanation as to why he's looking up inappropriate pick up lines during work hours.





	The Square Root of Two

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Square Root of Two (Art)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14897262) by [Sizna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sizna/pseuds/Sizna). 



> Would you believe this is the first work I've ever completed? I signed up for the CapRBB to stretch myself and force myself to finish something. I did finish the work (surprisingly), but I also made a bunch of friends and played some very interesting games of Cards Against Humanity. 
> 
> Anyway, I claimed an AMAZING piece of artwork from [@crow-sizna](https://crow-sizna.tumblr.com/). Give her a follow - she's an absolute joy and an amazing artist!
> 
> I drew a lot of inspiration from the TV show NCIS, and, if you're familiar with it, just picture the layout of the bullpen and Abby's labs. I wrote it with exactly that in mind.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! It kinda took a mind of it's own towards the end, but I like how it turned out. Kudos and comments would be really appreciated, especially as this is my first full length fic!
> 
> ******TRIGGER WARNING - There is a mention of someone being dishonorably discharged from the US military due to sexual harassment, and there is a brief description of a drink being drugged. Please watch for this! I tried to keep it non-graphic and brief!********

_Friday_

“I wish I was DNA helicase so I could unzip your genes? What?” Steve mumbled, scowling at his screen. A few feet away, at his desk, Tony burst out laughing.

“What?” Steve looked up from his computer, glancing over at the other man, who may or may not have fallen off his chair in his fit of laughter.

“It’s just – I can’t – ” Tony tried to explain, but was interrupted by another bout of laughter.

“Natasha?” Steve looked across squad room to the red-haired agent.

“DNA helicase is an enzyme that separates DNA strands as part of the transcription process. It’s usually depicted as a zipper type relationship. Are you looking at pick up lines during work?” She asked, hiding her own smile. Steve flushed.

“The new forensic scientist is really cute,” was all he offered as an explanation. Natasha rolled her eyes, still smiling, though.

“Alpha team, we have a new case for you. Agent Barton has the information.” Director Fury’s voice interrupted, and Steve quickly closed his browser.

“Hey, guys. I don’t know how I got briefed first, but you all can suck it.” Clint grinned at them while the team filed into the briefing room. Alpha Team – the name the four of them had settled on because no one would let Clint call them the A-Team – had a running tally of who was briefed first. Each year the count technically reset, but everyone had that one Excel file on their computer with totals that went way back. No one was really sure what they would do with that information, because no one wanted to think about someone else leaving the team.

“You fell from the ceiling in my office, when I was having a confidential meeting with the Secretary of the Navy,” Fury growled, and Clint shrugged.

“Director, I’d be happy to assist in Clint-proofing your office. I’ve had extensive practice.” Natasha smiled sweetly.

“I’m sure there’s an innuendo in there, gimme a minute and I’ll find it,” Tony said, frowning.

“Stark, what have we said about innuendos in the briefing room?” Fury glared.

“Only allowed if I’m positive it would make you laugh.” Tony answered confidently, and Steve hid a grin. Fury rolled his eyes.

“Barton, debrief. I can’t believe I have to supervise four senior agents for a simple mission brief.” After the incident with Tony’s pants, Clint’s lighter, and the sprinkler system, HR decided that Alpha Team must be supervised in the briefing room at all times. That duty usually fell to Director Fury, as he was usually the only agent with high enough clearance to hear what was being discussed.

“Sir, yes sir!” Clint snapped off a salute, and Fury rolled his eyes again. He did that a lot around Alpha Team. “Okay, anyway, local police have reported a string of murders around the city. There have been three so far, all in the same way with what appears to be the same knife. The police force says they can handle it for now, but they just want us to be aware of it. They say the murders have been happening for the past three weeks, all on Saturday nights. They gave us the case files if we wanted to look over them, so we can brief on those. They also requested that they forensics department help out, so I’ll need someone to run these files downstairs when we’re done.”

“I’ll do it.” Steve volunteered, and Natasha smirked at him. He gave her what the team had titled his ‘Certain Death Glare’, which meant if you keep talking, you’re dead.

“Ooh, Tasha got the Certain Death Glare, with capital letters and all. What did I miss in the bullpen, huh?” Clint grinned, dropping the files on the table and sliding into the seat next to Steve.

“Barton. Briefing. Not love lives.” Fury barked from his chair in the corner, with a glare to rival Steve’s.

“No fun. Anyway, here’re the files.” Clint handed over the manila folder. Steve took it, flipping through the first few papers.

“Get those down to forensics, have them look at them and scan them into the database. We’ll keep the hard copy in my office.” Fury stood and stalked out of the room, dismissing the meeting.

“Man still doesn’t trust computers, huh?” Tony asked.

“I mean… some of the stuff in here is pretty sensitive. Makes sense that he’d want them in the secure database and nowhere else.” Steve commented as he flipped through some of the pages. Tony leaned over his shoulder, and Steve snapped the file shut. Tony pouted.

“Alright, well, after you’re done there, come back to the bullpen. We gotta wrap up the Regger case.” Natasha left the briefing room, patting Steve on the shoulder. By now, Steve knew her well enough to know that was her way of saying “Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

The newest scientist on board was named James Barnes. Steve didn’t know much about him, but, then again, nobody really did. Fury had found him, and told the team that he was a veteran and was good at what he did. People rarely saw him leave the lab, and, if they did see him, he definitely didn’t speak to anyone. Steve had seen James in the parking lot one night, and, under the streetlights, James was breathtaking. His long hair had been pulled back in a sloppy bun, and his legs were clad in ass-hugging jeans. God bless casual Fridays. The look in his eyes that Steve could see from twenty feet away and the way James carried himself – a tired, exhausted way – made Steve just want to wrap him in his arms and kiss away all the problems.

Okay, sure, Steve had always been a romantic. Maybe he believed in love at first sight, but Steve was also a realist. He knew that not everyone believed in stuff like that. Hopefully James did believe in that stuff.

Working with SHIELD had taught Steve how to accept that some things were out of his control. Like transferring from New York City to DC and then back to NYC. Or Agent Carter from England’s SSR being transferred into his life, and then, right after he had time to fall in love with her, she was transferred out of his life and back to England. Steve would probably go as far as to say he had more control when he was leading his own group of soldiers in the Middle East, which was crazy because being over there was, well, crazy. But SHIELD didn’t care about his Army rank or his medals or his leadership skills. They cared about getting the job done and didn’t really care about which body was there to do it.

“Knock knock,” Steve said as he rapped his hand against the door frame to the lab, the files in his hand and a smile on his face. James looked up from his computer, eyes wide. His dark hair hung loose today, framing his face rather nicely. It also worked well to hide the dark circles under his eyes.

“Oh, Agent Rogers. I, uh, didn’t expect to see you down here today.” James stood, looking nervous already.

“Fury sent me down with some files that need to be scanned.” Steve held out the file for James, who came over to take it.

“Okay. I’ll get these in our database. I assume you’ll wait for them.” He flipped through it as he went over to the scanner.

“Yeah, if that’s alright with you.” Steve leaned against a table. Some of the evidence from the Regger case was spread across it, looking ready to be packed away. James gave a noncommittal shrug.

About twelve seconds went by before Steve was unable to stand the silence anymore.

“Hey, James?”

“Hmm?” He didn’t look up from the scanner.

“I wish I was Avogadro because then I would know your number.”

James’ head jerked up, and not even his curtain of hair could hide his blush and small smile. Steve couldn’t hide his grin. A few seconds passed, the air tense, then the scanner beeped, causing James to jump. He looked relieved to have something to do, and Steve couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

When James handed the papers back, he was still blushing. Steve found that completely endearing and was too enchanted with his rosy cheeks to try another pick up line. He took the papers and probably floated out of the lab.

Tony smirked at Steve when he returned to what Alpha Team had lovingly nicknamed the bullpen. “So how’d it go?”

“Shut up, Tony.” Steve schooled his dopey grin into something more professional and sat down at his desk. Tony cackled.

The rest of the day passed rather quickly. They closed out the Regger case, and Steve was more than happy to be done with the cash embezzler. He knew it was important that Regger was finally behind bars, but Steve much preferred the cases when he got to chase someone, or punch someone, or tackle someone. He had joined SHIELD to keep his skills up after getting out of the Army, which was chasing and punching and tackling. Not math and neat arrests accompanied by suits and briefcases done on the down-low.

The best part of the day, though, was that Steve’s massive crush on James wasn’t brought up again until they were packing up for the day. After Tony had bounced out of the bullpen, yelling happily into his phone about “Thursday night drinks, Pep, drinks! Rhodey’s on leave, the crew from work is coming, you gotta come too,” Natasha fell into step beside Steve.

“Be careful, Steve.” Her voice was quiet as they waited for the elevator.

“Hm?” He glanced at her, questioning.

“James isn’t exactly what you think he is.” She looked up and held his gaze.

“You know him?” Steve couldn’t hide his surprise. Natasha hums non-committedly.

“I don’t want to see either of you get hurt. And you can save me your ‘everyone is more than they seem’ spiel, I know you’re still that ‘sick kid from Brooklyn who could never back down from a fight.’ I’ve heard it enough. But, Steve. I have my demons, you have your demons, Tony has a whole building full of demons. James has the demons of many other people mixed with his own.” The elevator doors open, and the two step in.

“Why are you telling me this?” Steve was genuinely confused. He and Natasha were definitely close friends, but it was _very_ rare that she revealed things about her past. Many people would find that cause for alarm, considering she used to be a Russian agent of some top secret department, but if Fury trusted her, that was good enough for Steve. Also, if Steve asked either of them any deeper questions than “what’s your favorite color” he would most definitely get beat up, so he accepted their answers without question.

“Oh, God, you’re going to make me admit it. It’s because I care about you Steve.” She said the words as if they left a bad taste in her mouth, but Steve knew better. He could see the smile lying under her revolted expression.

“Aw, Nat, that’s so sweet. Can I call you Nat, now?”

That earned him a punch to the arm that would most definitely bruise.

_Monday_

“Get in, loser, we’re going shopping.” Clint grabbed Steve’s arm and spun him around back into the elevator.

“What?”

“You haven’t seen Mean Girls? Steve. Even I’ve seen it.” Natasha stepped into the elevator, casting a dubious look at Steve, who shrugged.

“What can I say? You guys don’t like any of my excuses, even though they’re all accurate. Where are we going, anyway? Can I set my stuff down?” The doors were closing, and Tony’s yelling could be heard, and then a hand was thrust through, almost getting squished.

“Thanks for waiting, assholes. And, Steve, your excuses are lame. You play the ‘I was poor’ or ‘My mom died’ card way too much.” Tony jostled his way into the elevator.

“That’s the truth!”

“How is your mom dying an excuse for not seeing Mean Girls?!” Clint asked, a grin on his face. Steve was notorious for not being caught up on pop culture, and, whenever asked, he blamed it on one of three things: being in the Army, being poor, or his mother dying. It had started out as a legitimate thing, and everyone frowned when Steve brought up his mother, but now it had somehow spiraled into some kind of sick joke. They certainly got some weird looks from other agents when Alpha Team was yelling at Steve about bringing up dead family members.

“When I was on leave, which wasn’t often, but when I was, I would spend every hour at my mother’s grave.” Steve grinned, and the other three agents instantly started yelling and ribbing him. Steve just cackled.

It took the group the ride to the lobby to settle down. Only when they reached the parking lot did Steve think to ask any details about the case.

“So… what are we doing, anyway?”

“Remember those files that you took down to forensics? There was another murder on Saturday and the local police want our help. The latest victim was Josefiña Hernandez, a Navy commander. Gas station security cameras picked up on the attacker, and forensics is running facial recognition. I told them to call you when they get a hit.” Natasha grinned at Steve, grabbing the keys from Tony. Steve groaned, embarrassed, at the same time Tony let out a yell.

“You are _not_ driving!”

“Tony, please. I’m an excellent driver.” Natasha smiled innocently, swinging the keys around her finger as the team approached the car.

“You’re a Russian driver! They’re required to have dash cams in order to get insurance! Last week you almost drove off the road for no apparent reason!” But it was too late; Natasha was already sliding into the driver’s seat. Tony wailed defeatedly and looked to Steve and Clint for backup.

“Don’t look at me, man. Arguing with Natasha never gets you anywhere. She’ll just break your legs if you win the verbal argument.” Clint shrugged and, ever the brave soul, climbed into the passenger’s seat, leaving the back for Steve and Tony.

Tony continued his protesting for most of the ride. As Natasha swerved around a bus, Steve’s phone rang.

“Hello?”

“I guess I’m Avogadro now,” James said as a greeting. Steve laughed.

“Hey, James.”

“I got a hit on the footage.” His voice rumbled through the line, and it was all Steve could do not to moan.

“Oh, great, let me put you on speaker. Natasha, Clint, and Tony are here.” After putting James on speaker, Steve held the phone to the middle of the car. “Okay, you’re good.”

“Hey, everybody. The man behind the murder is Colin Hamilton, ex-Marine who was dishonorably discharged for sexual assault. He also had repeated offenses of insubordination, and his CO recommended anger management classes. Didn’t work well with women, especially ethnic women.”

“Yikes.” Tony winced.

“Exactly. Anyway, I put the local departments on alert for his car, and we’re monitoring…. Basically everything else. I’ll let you guys get back to it.”

“Thanks, Barnes. We’ll let you know what we find at the scene.” Clint moves to end the call, and Natasha yells something in Russian. James says something back, much quieter, and Natasha smiles softly. She waves a hand to let Steve know he can hang up, so he taps the ‘end call’ button with a confused look.

“I didn’t know James spoke Russian.”

“Dude, you’ve had two conversations with him, one of which started with a shitty pick up line.” Clint scoffed.

“That was an excellent pick up line, I’ll have you know.” Steve slid his phone back into his pocket.

“I would date you if you used that line on me.” Tony leaned over into Steve’s space, eyebrows wiggling.

“Tony, Pepper would kill you and then severely injure me.” Steve shoved Tony’s head away. Natasha slammed on the brakes, sending them all jerking forward.

“We’re here!” She said cheerfully while everyone else groaned.

_Later_

“Okay, so, what’da we got?” Clint was perched on the divider surrounded the bullpen, eating a bag of chips. Tony slapped Steve’s hand away from the remote.

“Colin Hamilton, dishonorable discharge for sexual assault, reports of insubordination and anger issues. Has committed three others murders in the exact same way – knife to the throat. Thorough cleanup of crime scene but he didn’t account for gas station security cameras. We have no info on where he went.” Tony rattled off in review.

“Tell me about the victims,” Director Fury barked.

“The first victim was Serene Clarkson, a member of NYPD. She leaves behind a husband and two young daughters. She was born in Ethiopia, and died on March 3. The second was Anisha Letanov, a Russian immigrant who runs a bakery in downtown Manhattan with her sister, Anastasia Letanov. She was killed on March 10. Yoonjin Chei was the third, a Korean-American scientist that was quite close to finding a date-rape drug detector. She was murdered on March 17. This brings us to our most recent victim, Josefiña Hernandez, a Cuban immigrant who quickly rose through the Navy ranks to Commander. She died this previous Saturday, March 24.” It was a bit chilling how Natasha rattled off the facts of the case, but Steve reminded himself that she probably had to report much worse things to much worse people.

“Okay, so, what we have so far is a man with anger issues and issues with women, specifically women from other countries. All the murders have been committed with, we’re assuming, the same knife. We had autopsy look at the other bodies, and everything looks pretty uniform.” Steve paced around, trying to restrain his anger. These women had done nothing to Hamilton, and yet they were dead. They did nothing to deserve this, and yet there were now four families devastated with news no one should ever have to hear.

“Steve, you know we’re gonna get this guy, right? He’s not gonna last much longer,” Tony said, his brows drawing together in concern.

“Yeah. Yeah, c’mon guys, we gotta get this bastard.”

_Thursday_

“Hey, Tony, can I invite James to drinks tonight?” Steve slid over to Tony’s desk in his rolling chair. No, Steve has never grown up. He’s usually better at hiding it, but he’s finally worked up the courage to ask James out. Okay, sure, it’s just to group drinks at Phil’s, but Steve is gonna count it as progress. Maybe James will be more open with a group instead of a one-on-one date.

“Sure, the more the merrier. Phil probably won’t mind.” Tony shrugged, not looking up from his computer. Phil is a friend of Tony’s that used to be pretty high up in the SHIELD hierarchy, but he got caught up in bad shit and had to fake his own death. Steve doesn’t quite know all the details – he was still running around the Middle East when all this went down– and he doesn’t ask questions. All he knows is that Phil used to go by Coulson and is ‘too ballsy’ (Tony’s words) to actually change his name. Also, Phil sells damn good whiskey, so Steve isn’t complaining.

Every Thursday night, the team goes out for drinks at the pub titled simply “Phil’s.” It started with Tony and Clint, to go and actually visit Phil, but, as the team grew, it turned into an actual outing. Steve’s never seen a tab, but he wonders sometimes about how all this gets paid for. Again, though, he doesn’t ask questions.

“Cool, thanks. If you guys don’t need me up here, I’ll go down and ask him.” Steve rolled back to his desk, pointedly ignoring Natasha’s smirk.

“No, no, we’re all good here.” Clint was perched behind her with a matching smirk. Steve shuddered.

“You two are horrifyingly in sync.”

The smiles only grew.

Steve got up from his desk and headed to the elevator, pulling his phone out to try and find another good pickup line to use. Yes, he had a folder of images saved with nerdy pickup lines. Shut up.

When the elevator dinged and opened to the labs, Steve couldn’t hide the grin on his face.

“Hey, Avogadro. Are you the square root of two? Because I feel irrational around you,” Steve called out, heading farther into the lab. When he found James, the other man was already blushing and ducking his head.

“Hey, Agent Rogers.” James’ voice was quiet, nothing like what Steve had heard on the phone.

“Call me Steve. Listen, a bunch of us go out every Thursday, and I was wondering if you would wanna come along. We meet at Phil’s around eight.” Steve moved to lean against one of the tables, missed by a mile, and went slamming to the floor. He groaned, looking up at the bright lights of the lab, feeling oddly like he was back in the hospital until a face appeared above him, framed by brown hair. James was smiling, and Steve was pretty sure he wasn’t breathless because of the fall.

“Sure. You don’t gotta hurt yourself for me, though.”

 _‘Oh, but I would.’_ Steve thought it but didn’t say it in an amazing display of self-control.

“Awesome,” He wheezed from the floor. James offered his hand, and Steve grabbed it, hauling himself up and holding back another inappropriate comment about the muscles hidden beneath the lab coat. Once Steve was right side up again, he offered another winning grin and headed out the door, mission accomplished. He didn’t miss the smile James had, though. It looked bigger than when Steve first came in.

-

“Nat. Nat. Nat. Nat, I need help.” As soon as Bucky got to his car, he called Natasha.

“Yasha, is it like, ‘bury a body’ help or ‘I need you to braid my hair’ help? Because you will get two very different responses.”

“I’m going to drinks tonight with Steve and his team, which I guess includes you? But I need outfit advice and also maybe some hair help,” Bucky answered sheepishly, carefully backing out of the parking lot. He spotted Natasha leaving the building and he grinned and waved. She flipped him off, but there was a small smile on her face.

“Asshole.” Her tone was fond. “I’ll meet you at your place in twenty. Gotta grab some stuff from my place, including but not limited to a bottle of vodka.”

“Nice. Do you guys usually get hammered at these things?”

“Not really. Steve occasionally gets tipsy, but since you’re there, he probably won’t. Clint does, but has gotten better at moderating what he drinks, especially after he had a fist fight with a suspect the next day. I, obviously, can handle my drinks, and Tony’s not too shabby at it either. He doesn’t drink much anymore, though.” Natasha was smiling while she said all this, Bucky was positive.

“Cool, cool. So it’ll be fine if I get something non-alcoholic?”

“Of course, Yasha. Listen, I’m about to merge. I gotta go. Пока́.” And with that, the call was over.

Natasha had, of course, beaten Bucky to his house. He didn’t really know how she did it, but, by this point, he was too afraid to ask.

“Okay, Yasha, listen. We are going to make you look _hot_.” Natasha followed him into his apartment, carrying a bottle of vodka and some other plastic bags.

“Excellent idea.”

Ten minutes later, Bucky was in his most ass-hugging jeans and tightest shirt. He was sat in front of the mirror, watching Natasha work on his hair.

“So, you’re really into Steve?” Her question made a spectacular blush rise on Bucky’s face.

“Yeah. I mean… Yeah. Obviously, he’s super attractive.” Natasha smirked at that, and Bucky glared, before continuing, “He’s really cute, though. The pick up lines he uses are adorable. I’m just… Like, I’m really only comfortable around you and Clint. After… I mean, you know.”

Natasha nodded knowingly, tying off Bucky’s hair.

“Well, whatever happens, know I’m proud of you, okay? You’ve come a long way.” And if her eyes glistened as she kissed his cheek, Bucky said nothing. Because maybe, just maybe, his eyes were a little wet too.

A minute or so passed with the two like that, looking at each other in the mirror, before Natasha straightened and whacked Bucky’s right shoulder with the brush.

“Alright, enough sappy shit. People are gonna think I’m soft.”

“You? Never.” That earned Bucky another smack with the brush.

“You look hot as fuck. Let’s go.” Natasha set the brush down and headed out of the bathroom, grabbing the vodka from Bucky’s dresser. They poured three shots at the kitchen table, each drank one and poured the third out the window with a mumbling of Russian. Bucky grabbed his jacket and Nat grabbed her purse, and they were off.

-

Steve couldn’t explain it, but he knew the moment James walked into Phil’s. He looked to the door and broke into a smile, when he spotted James and Natasha walk in. Clint nudged his shoulder, a grin the same size on his face. They fist bumped under the table.

The SHIELD crew is always put in the back corner of the pub, mainly because Thor, – the liaison from Norway – Tony, and Clint are quite rowdy when drunk. Phil also understands the value of sight lines and quick exits.

Natasha led James to the table, and Steve couldn’t pull his eyes away from James’ leather jacket. He also couldn’t wipe the dopey grin off his face. Normally, he’d be a bit concerned with the way James seemed to be attached to Natasha, questioning whether James even liked guys of if they were a couple, but Clint and Natasha were very obviously a couple. Steve could tell they were trying to hide it, but Clint lit up like a Christmas tree whenever she was in the room. They were a good couple. Natasha was crazier than she’d admit, and Clint could bring that out of her and Steve knew they’d have all sorts of fun. Probably involving explosives.

Natasha sat down across from Clint and next to Sam Wilson, one of the medical examiners at SHIELD. This put James across from Steve and next to Tony. James looked more relaxed than when Steve saw him at work, but Steve suspected that Natasha might have had something to do with that. She had what the team called her “I Just Got Away with Alcohol” look. Patent pending.

“Hey, James, are you ninety degrees?” Steve leaned forward, and James smiled, a blush already dusting his cheeks. Steve left a pause for dramatic effect, before continuing, “Because you’re looking _right_.”

James laughed, ducking his head. Steve grinned widely, leaning back in his chair, happy with himself. Natasha rolled her eyes fondly. Phil appeared at the head of the table, looking already tired of Alpha Team’s shenanigans. He took orders before disappearing back into the kitchen, effectively ignoring Tony’s good-natured shouts. Steve couldn’t be happier. He got to spend all evening looking at James’ beautiful face.

After everyone ate their fill of Phil’s excellent food, the dancing started. Tony, Clint, and Natasha were the first out of their seats. The restaurant didn’t have that much dance room, but the crew didn’t mind. Someone always ended up on the counter by the end of the night anyway. Spoiler? It was usually Thor.

Steve wasn’t much one for dancing, but, apparently, neither was James. A few minutes after the Troubled Trio (Steve’s nickname for Tony, Clint, and Natasha) headed out to the dance floor, the group began breaking off into smaller circles. Bruce Banner, another ME, pulled a table into a quiet corner, where he was joined by his girlfriend, Betty Ross. Sam and Thor migrated to the dance floor, Pepper (Tony’s girlfriend) followed the dancers after Tony started dancing over to her. Steve and James were left at the table.

“So.” Now faced with the opportunity to actually talk to James, Steve had no idea of what to say. He could use another pick up line, but, somehow, it didn't feel right. His mind was blank, trying to recall what to say. All of the conversation starters he had seen suddenly left his mind, and Steve was left with nothing to say. Luckily, James started the conversation on his own.

"How was your meal?" His voice was quiet, and Steve could tell James was just as uncomfortable as he was.

"It was good, yeah." Steve paused.

"This is super awkward."

“Yep.”

They stared at each other.

“I promise I’m usually better at social interactions,” Steve said.

“I’m not.” James grinned halfheartedly.

“I doubt that. Let’s start with the basics. Tell me about yourself.” Steve leaned an arm on the table, pushing a plate away. James blushed.

“Um… I dunno… I grew up in Brooklyn?”

“No way! Me too!”

After about ten minutes, the two discovered that they grew up practically next to each other, but because of school districts, they never got a chance to meet. That turned into a discussion of sickly Steve, and then that turned into a two hour discussion about the basics of their lives up until now. They only stopped talking because Clint passed out due to three straight hours of dancing, and Steve was too much of a gentleman to let Natasha carry Clint’s limp body around (even though she completely one hundred percent had it under control).

"Hey, so I really enjoyed tonight. Would you wanna do this again sometime?" James fell into step on the way out of Phil's, taking care to avoid Clint's flailing arm.

"I would love that. Would tomorrow evening work? We can go for dinner at this great little Russian place that I know. It's been Natasha-approved." Steve's thousand watt smile lit up his face.

"Tomorrow would be great." James couldn't help but smile in return.

"Oh, awesome. I'll meet you in the front lobby after work tomorrow, and the restaurant is within walking distance from SHIELD." Steve shifted Clint, the weight barely noticeable anymore.

After Steve dumped Clint in Tony’s car, James and Steve hung around on the sidewalk a little longer, exchanging numbers. James continually blushed like a dork, but the light dusting of pink on Steve’s cheeks definitely didn’t go unnoticed.

Also, if Steve let a little moan slip when he saw James swing his thighs over the seat of his motorcycle, well, no one was around.

-

_Monday_

“Steve! We need you over here!” As soon as Steve stepped out of the elevator, he was already being yelled at. He held back a groan.

“Why are you late?” Clint glared over his computer monitor, the rest of the team gathered behind him.

“I felt like being nice and stopped at Starbucks.” Steve shrugged.

“Wow, so I take it your date went well on Friday?” Natasha came over and grabbed her strawberry acai lemonade. She handed Clint his venti Americano; the drink that Steve had received worried looks from another customer for. Tony leaned over Clint’s desk, practically toppling over, to grab his green tea Frappuccino.

“What? I can’t be nice once and awhile?” Steve asked, mock offended. Truth is, the date had gone _very_ well, and, while all he got was a kiss on the cheek, Steve felt like the relationship had a bright future. He had been promoted to nickname status, and James was now Bucky. Bucky had seemed to gain more confidence over the course of the meal, and, by the end, the two were laughing openly.

“Mhm. Anyway, Hamilton got another hit on Saturday. I don’t know how we didn’t catch it.” Natasha frowned, scanning over the information that Clint put on the screen.

“Shit. Dimah Tahan… a college student? That’s fucked up.” Steve set his black coffee down on his desk, already pissed.

“Even worse was that after she got her teaching degree, she wanted to return to Pakistan and teach in her town. She went to school in Philadelphia and was just visiting NYC for a weekend.” Steve had never heard Tony sound more disgusted.

“Okay, so, we’re catching this bastard before Saturday, right?”

“Right.”

As much as Steve hated to, he canceled his date with Bucky that evening. Bucky nodded, understanding, and his eyes were like solid steel. He carried himself with a strange combination of anger and determination – a look Steve hadn’t seen on his before. He looked like a panther, if panthers wore lab coats and man buns.

At the end of Monday, when the team had resolved to do nothing but work on catching Hamilton – no paperwork, no other cases, nothing – Clint disappeared down into the labs, and Natasha made sure to keep Steve away. He frowned but didn’t say anything. There was no one in the world that Steve trusted more than his team.

_Tuesday_

Steve got into work early, expecting to see an empty bullpen. Instead, he saw the crew already assembled: Clint in yesterday’s clothes, Natasha without makeup, and Tony with his pot of coffee, already given up on mugs. Steve didn’t look much better with rumpled bedhead and a wrinkled shirt. Clint, without looking, tossed a wrapped Egg McMuffin to Steve, who caught it in surprise.

“Nice shot,” Steve said, and Clint just grunted around his mouthful of bacon egg and cheese bagel. Natasha looked up from her sausage McGriddle to raise an eyebrow at Tony, who met her eyes over the rim of his coffee pot. He sheepishly set down the pot and picked up his steak biscuit.

“Okay early birds, what’da we got?” Steve set his bag down on his seat, unwrapping his sandwich.

“I’ve been going through Hamilton’s online interactions, trying to find a clue to who’s next. Got a few leads so far,” Tony mumbled from behind a napkin.

“Good. Keep at that and follow those leads. Natasha?”

“Phone and bank records. Nothing too suspicious so far, but I’ve found some interesting patterns. I’ll let you know if I find anything good.” She wiped the crumbs from her desk and resumed tapping at the keyboard.

“Great. Clint? Did you spend the night here?”

“Maybe. I put out bolos late last night for his car, but haven’t gotten anything yet. I’m contacting some of his old army acquaintances to see if I can get any insight for Sam.”

Sam Wilson was one of SHIELD’s best medical examiners. He had spent time in the Air Force pararescue division and volunteered at the VA. He had a degree in psychology, and occasionally assisted Alpha Team in psychoanalyzing suspects. He was also a good friend of Steve’s.

“Awesome. Let’s catch this son of a bitch.”

Steve spent most of the day in the basement labs, running between the Sam/Riley medical examining duo, and Bucky’s lab. Usually Steve would be ecstatic to spend so much time with Bucky, but the attitude surrounding the Alpha Team members was too serious for another pick-up line. It was too somber even for flirting, and Bucky looked like he hadn’t slept at all the night before. Of course, Steve hadn’t slept either: the pictures of Tahan hit a chord in him, bringing back memories of Iraq and Afghanistan, memories that he’d really rather forget.

Steve had caught Bucky falling asleep at his desk more than once, jerking back into consciousness as soon as he fell asleep. During their team meeting around two in the afternoon, Natasha showed up with venti coffees for everyone except Clint, who already had about six cups already stacked around him. Tony made a comment about a cup fort, but everyone was distracted with the case to pounce on the idea.

_Wednesday_

“I hope you like science, because I’ve got my ion you.” Steve mumbled from his position on the floor of Bucky’s lab, surrounded by files and print outs. Bucky snorted, and Steve could see a light blush coating his cheeks. The two were lying on the hard floor, the lights dim, feeling like they were the only two people in the world. It was two am and they had been working non-stop for about six hours, finally deciding to take a break. The break room was upstairs, though, and therefore too far away.

“You’re somethin’ else, Rogers.”

“Why, thank you, Barnes.”

“Are all these pickup lines true?” Bucky turned his head to look over at Steve.

“Of course.” Steve met his gaze, smiling.

“Why?” Bucky asked, and Steve had to resist the urge to reach out and brush some of his hair away.

“It started because you’re cute as fuck. It continued because I really do want to get to know you, Buck. You sound like a great guy. And you’re still cute as fuck.” Steve grinned widely. Bucky blushed and looked back up at the ceiling.

“You think we’ll catch the guy?” Bucky asked and Steve could hear the doubt in his voice.

“I really do. I’ve been doing this for awhile and I think we’ve got a good chance. We’ve compiled lists and evidence and patterns. We have a general area where we think this thing is gonna go down, and, even if we don’t have a specific location, we’re getting close. Natasha has contributed about nine different escape routes if something goes to shit. Tony has triple checked them and Clint spent tonight on the rooftops.” Steve knew this was Bucky’s first major case. He also knew that Bucky had seen some shit, even if Steve had no idea what branch of the military Bucky had served in. Every time Steve started to press a little bit, Natasha gave him a look or Clint shook his head, if they were around. It was a little frustrating that two of his friends knew more about Bucky – the man he not only wanted to bang the shit out of, but also date – than he did, but Steve understood secrecy.

Silence fell when Steve paused, thinking back over what he said.

“Jesus, we sound paranoid.”

“Paranoid keeps you alive,” Bucky mumbled, and Steve grunted his agreement. Natasha had an obsessive need to be able to escape. Tony trusted practically no one. Clint panicked if he couldn’t see and visualize things. Steve couldn’t function if there wasn’t at least some sort of defense.

Silence fell, and a few minutes ticked by.

“We should move somewhere more comfortable.” Bucky sat up with a groan.

“Trying to get me into bed, Barnes?” Steve mustered up the best leer he could.

“N-No, Rogers, you pervert.” Bucky blushed red but offered his hand to pull Steve up anyway. Steve grabbed it, suddenly reminiscent of a week ago.

“Hey, since we’re basically dating now I can comment about the muscles hidden under your lab coat, right? Because I had some _very_ inappropriate thoughts concerning them last week.” Steve grinned, but Bucky faltered in his step.

“Are… Are we dating?”

_Oh, shit._

“Um… I kinda thought we were. Only if you wanna, though,” Steve said in a rush, bracing himself for rejection.

“No, no, I mean, yeah, I do wanna date you, of course, yeah.” Bucky stumbled over his words, a shy grin on his face.

“Good, ‘cause I wanna date you too.” It was Steve’s turn to blush, and he didn’t miss how Bucky’s eyes tracked the length of his neck.

“Oh. Good.” Bucky’s blush returned with a vengeance.

“This better not be where our first kiss is. No offense to your lab,” Steve said, noticing the proximity of the other man.

“What’s wrong with my lab?”

“There’s literally a human finger in your fridge. I know because I was gonna set my dinner in there when I came down.” Steve couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose in disgust.

“Don’t diss the finger, Stevie. I’ll have you know that’s a middle finger, so basically the dude who it belonged to is continuously flipping you off.” Bucky grinned, turning the lights off as the two left the lab.

“Why is it flipping me off?”

“Because you’re being rude to it.”

“Buck, it’s a finger.” Steve laughed as he jabbed the elevator button.

“You still gotta be nice to it.”

“Hey, weirdo, we’re not in your lab anymore. That means I can kiss you now.” Steve stepped closer to Bucky in the elevator, and Bucky looked up at him. There was about a three-inch height difference, and Steve was gonna lord that over Bucky (pun intended) as much as possible.

“How romantic, Rogers.” Bucky was in the middle of rolling his eyes when Steve’s mouth covered his, gentle and warm. It was a chaste kiss, simple and clean, but Steve loved it all the same.

The two spent the rest of the elevator ride exchanging bashful looks, ducking their head and blushing when caught. Steve couldn’t stop smiling, and all he wanted to do was grab Bucky’s hand and scream to the world about how they’re a couple now. Bucky’s face appeared to be a permanent red.

When the doors opened to the bullpen, Natasha instantly knew something was up. She cut Steve a glance, and, when he couldn’t wipe his grin off his face, she barked some Russian at Bucky. His face turned even more red, and Tony burst out laughing.

“I didn’t know you spoke Russian.” Steve said, walking past Tony’s desk.

“Steve, I’ve had about fourteen pots of coffee today. I think I can communicate with God.” Tony was practically vibrating. Clint wasn’t much better.

“You guys know we can…. Sleep… right? That’s an option that we have right now.” Steve frowned at his team.

“I mean, but it’s –” Tony looked at his watch, “Thursday already. We have like, two days to nail everything down here.”

“We can’t run on empty like this. Besides, if Fury knew about all this, we’d get in all sorts of trouble. He’s all about overtime, but I doubt he’d be happy with this. Mandatory Alpha Team nap in the break room.” Steve pointed to the break room, and the team begrudgingly obeyed.

_Friday_

The team had spent most of Thursday sleeping, especially after Fury had found them all napping in the break room and demanded to know “why, pray tell, are you all fucking sleeping in the break room at six am?” He sent them all to the actual beds that no one knew SHIELD had in the basement.

Friday came around and they might not have been refreshed, but they were definitely awake. Natasha went on a Dunkin Donuts run, and now the agents were hyped up on sugar and coffee. Especially Clint, who was physically unable to sit still. Steve was riding the line between ‘everything is fucking hilarious’ and ‘we have to actually do work.’ Tony had powdered sugar in his hair. Natasha seemed to be the only one who was capable of normal function, but she wasn’t wearing shoes. Bucky, though, seemed completely alert and focused.

“It’s ‘cause he was a sniper.” Clint seemed to pick up on what Steve was thinking as he walked behind him on top of the dividers.

“Huh?” Steve tore his gaze away from where Bucky was talking to Tony.

“Bucky. You were thinking too loud, and, since you were staring at Bucky, I assumed it was about him. I also assumed you were wondering about how he was so chill because we’re all so stressed.” Clint dropped down as Steve turned in his chair.

“What branch of the army was he in?”

“All we’re allowed to say is special forces,” Clint said, sounding apologetic.

“You served with him?” Steve turned to Clint in surprise.

“Mhm.” Clint looked like he was gonna say more, but his computer dinged and interrupted him.

“I got something!” Tony yelled, startling Bucky, who was right next to Tony’s ear. The team instantly crowded around Tony’s computer.

“Found some Facebook messages between him and a woman named Nathalia Pao. Don’t worry, this was completely legal in every way.” Tony quickly added, seeing the look on Steve’s face.

“The hacking I did earlier definitely wasn’t!” Natasha added cheerfully, earning a glare from Steve. Tony cackled happily.

“Nathalia Pao… okay, she’s an athlete from Fiji, specifically the island of Taveuni. She’s a surfer and swimmer, and she’s in New York City for an interview.” Clint ran a quick Google search and put the information up on the TV screen.

“Hamilton has been talking with her and asked to meet up for drinks tonight at HYDRA, a sketchy club that NYPD has had eyes on for some time. This is the place we’ve been watching, suspecting that something’s gonna happen.  I’ll let NYPD know what we think is going down, so they can step in as back up if needed.” Tony was already reaching for the phone.

“Should we get in contact with Pao?” Natasha asked, looking at Steve. He paused.

“I think we should. Maybe bring her in, tell her what’s happening?” Steve glanced at the evidence spread across every available surface, trying to formulate the best plan.

“I agree. This could potentially get very, very, ugly. We know Hamilton is violent, and this way, she won’t panic when we come at the two of them with guns.” Clint nodded, grabbing his jacket. “Nat, you and me?”

Natasha didn’t bat an eye at the nickname and grabbed the paper Tony held up with the hotel address on it. She stopped only to put her shoes on before her and Clint were walking with purpose to the elevator.

_Saturday_

“I hope you all know that I would much rather you do this on a weekday. Now I have to pay you overtime.” Fury’s voice managed to sound grouchy even over the radio comms.

“This is the only time we’re positive we know where he’s gonna be.” Steve didn’t even bother trying to sound sorry. Fury growled in response, and Steve shared an amused look with Tony.

Tony and Steve were set up in the bar while Natasha was waiting outside, and Clint was watching from the rooftops. They had talked with Nathalia Pao, and she was more than ready to help put Hamilton behind bars.

They each subtly watched Pao walk in. She moved gracefully and sat down next to a blond man with an obvious military haircut. Tony looked at Steve, who nodded, confirming it was Hamilton. Hamilton and Pao chatted for about ten minutes, before Pao excused herself to go to the bathroom. Hamilton quickly looked around before pulling what looked like a sugar packet out of his pocket. He dumped the powder into Pao’s drink, and Tony quickly alerted Pao with a text.

When the woman returned from the bathroom, they talked for another five minutes before Hamilton seemed to realize she wouldn’t be taking another sip of her drink. He looked around the bar, suspicion written on his face, and hurriedly wrapped up their conversation. Pao stood and barely managed to pick up her purse before Hamilton grabbed her arm and started pulling her toward the front doors.

“They’re coming your way, Natasha. He knows Pao didn’t take another sip on purpose,” Steve said into his comm, and received an affirmative hum from Natasha. A burst of rapid fire Romanian was heard over the line, as if she was talking into a phone. The doors banged open and Hamilton was on the sidewalk, his hand still gripping Pao’s wrist. He glared at Natasha before pulling Pao down an alleyway.

“Steve, Tony, they’re heading down the east alley. Cut ‘em off. Now that he knows we’re onto him, he’s gonna be extra jumpy.” Clint’s voice crackled over the comms, and Tony and Steve jumped off their stools, and began pushing through the crowd.

They burst out a side door just in time to see Hamilton put a knife to Pao’s neck. She gasped, and the two SHIELD agents instantly pulled out their guns.

“Let her go, Hamilton.” Steve took a step forward.

“Don’t get any closer!” Hamilton yelled.

“Listen, man, we just wanna talk.” Tony raised a hand and took a cautious step.

“That’s a lie!” The man stepped back in response, his grip around Pao getting tighter.

“Yeah, you’re right. That was total bullshit.” Natasha appeared next to Steve, her own gun raised.

“Put your guns down and I’ll let her go!”

“Clint?” Steve ignored Hamilton and talked into his earpiece.

“Got it. Pao knows, right?” The sniper’s voice sounded unconcerned.

“Mhm. Take it.” Steve confirmed with a slight nod from Pao.

Hamilton lay dead on the pavement, a bullet clean through the head. Pao stumbled away from the dead body and all but hid behind Natasha, who looked uncomfortable due to having to deal with feelings. Steve was suddenly exhausted. The past few days caught up with him and it was too hard to focus. He must have lost some time to staring at the dead body, because Clint was suddenly by his side with his hand on Steve’s shoulder. Tony was gently guiding Pao to a SHIELD secured car as another agent wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Natasha was talking to Maria Hill, an agent from the FBI who worked quite often with SHIELD. There were other agents working crowd control and cleaning the scene. Steve blinked and looked over at Clint, who shrugged.

The two sat down on the curb in front of the shut down club. Clint pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he chose one and handed it to Steve.

“’Dumbass 2.0?’” Steve gave Clint a dubious look.

“Natasha made my contacts. I’m ‘Original Dumbass,’ if you’re wondering.” Clint shrugged.

“So who’s 2.0?” Steve barely finished his sentence before Bucky’s voice interrupted him.

“Barton, I swear to god, if you’re hurt-”

“Hey, Buck.”

“Oh! Steve! Sorry. Are you okay? Is Clint okay? Is Nat okay? Who’s hurt?” Bucky sounded panicked.

“Nobody’s hurt. I mean, except Hamilton. Clint shot him from across the street.” Steve looked up at the building where Clint had been scoping from, eyeing the dark storm clouds gathering behind it. The days were getting longer now, and dusk was just now falling around eight.

“Steve?”

“Hey, Steve, come back for a second.” Bucky’s voice was in his ear again, and Steve blinked back to reality.

“Hmm?”

“You spaced out for a minute, there. Listen, what’s going on? Are you okay?” There was the sound of rustling fabric on Bucky’s end of the phone, like he was getting dressed.

“I’m just… I’m really tired.” Steve sighed heavily.

“I get it. Hey, can you hand Clint the phone real quick?”

“Mhm…” Steve handed the phone to Clint, who was giving him a weird look. Steve shrugged. All he heard of the conversation was Clint agreeing with Bucky, and, at some point, Natasha had come over, looking concerned.

“Okay, Steve, we’re gonna go to Bucky’s apartment so you can take a nap, okay?” Clint hung up and pocketed his phone.

“Mmkay. Can I test a pick up line on you guys?” Steve stood slowly, stretching.

“Lay it on me.” Natasha came around to his left side, and Steve gave her a very weak version of his “I Can Do It” look. She shrugged.

“If I was endoplasmic reticulum, how would you want me? Smooth? Or rough?” Steve grinned when Clint burst out laughing.

“That will one hundred percent work on Bucky.” Natasha looked amused.

It wasn’t a long walk to Bucky’s apartment building, and, when they got there, Bucky was waiting at the door. He grabbed Steve’s arm.

“You’re an idiot. When’s the last time you slept?” He was already pulling Steve towards his bedroom.

“Two nights ago, probably. You look cute.”

“Steve. I’m wearing sweatpants and…” He paused, looking down at his t-shirt, “…some shirt I picked up in Russia.”

“S’cute.” Steve flopped face fist onto Bucky’s bed. Bucky tried moving him around to get his head on the pillow or a blanket over his body, but Steve refused to budge.

“Jesus, you’re just solid beef, aren’t you?”

“Hey, Buck.”

“Yes, Stevie?”

“If I was endoplasmic reticulum, how would you want me? Smooth? Or rough?” Steve turned his head just enough to see Bucky’s reaction, which was a great one. He fell over laughing, hand slapping at the floor. Steve grinned, proud of himself, before promptly falling asleep. Bucky didn’t stop laughing for awhile, finally pulling himself up off the floor and wiping tears away from his eyes. He texted the “A-Team” group chat a picture of a sleeping Steve.

_JBB: [image1]_

_NAR: Did he use the line on you?_

_JBB: he did and it was amazing_

_CFB: good u got the big lug in bed dude’s heavy af_

_AES: is he okay??_

_JBB: I think so he just seems really tired not sick or anything_

_AES: good happy cuddles_

_ NAR: Always use protection, Yasha. _

_ JBB: oh my god _

Giving up on getting a decent conversation out of the other agents, Bucky plugged his phone in and climbed in behind Steve, wrapping an arm around him and  _ finally _ getting the blanket over him.

_ Sunday _

Steve woke to warm sunshine and a solid presence at his back. He sighed deeply, happily, and rolled over to find Bucky watching him with a careful smile on his face.

“Hey, Stevie. Sleep good?”

“Mhm. I guess my dweeby pickup lines worked on you, huh?”

“Yeah, they did. I couldn’t believe the hotshot Agent Rogers was down in the labs, flirting with me.” Bucky smiled and the blush returned.

“I saw you in the parking lot on the first Friday you worked and honestly I almost jumped you.” Steve grinned. Bucky’s blush got darker, and Steve laughed, giving him a gentle kiss.

“I also wanted to wrap you in a blanket and kiss away the worries,” Steve said softly, wiggling an arm around Bucky’s waist. The blush has crept down to Bucky’s neck.

“Aw, Stevie. I’m sure there’ll be time for that later.”

“Oh, does that mean we’re gonna continue seeing each other?” Steve smirked.

“You’re such a little shit. Of course I wanna keep dating you.” Bucky swatted at Steve’s arm.

“Can I use one last pick up line?” Steve chuckled, resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Sure.”

“My love for you is like pi. It’s never ending.”

And Steve knew that today was going to be a good day, because it started with Bucky’s laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe it's all done and posted. Wow. It's been a ride and I've loved so much of it. Again, give [@crow-sizna](https://crow-sizna.tumblr.com/) a follow/like/all the love in the world. I'm sure there are mistakes and things that don't make sense, even though I had the best beta [@memyselfandalltheseidiots](https://memyselfandalltheseidiots.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I do want to maybe work more in this series, we'll see. For now, though, go read the other RBB fics! They'll be posting through early July, I think!
> 
> Much love <3


End file.
